


Bittersweet

by Lunam_Lamina



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, M/M, Set in India, idek what this is, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7176344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunam_Lamina/pseuds/Lunam_Lamina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik and Kadar have worked their way up the South Indian music industry at a respectable rate, becoming one of the youngest, most sought-after musical duos. When they recieve an offer for a dance drama starring a certain light-eyed Syrian, Malik is less than enthused to accept. Yet at the insistence of his brother he does, and perhaps it isn't going to be as terrible as he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

Malik would rather walk barefoot across two metres of glass shards than stay in Chennai for more than 10 minutes. The crowds, the pollution, the noise, it’s as if it exists only to spite him. He much prefers the quiet calm of his hometown. Which is why he’s not finding it very difficult to pick between two work offers – one from a local dance teacher who would like him to sing for a collection of devotional songs, and another from Chennai, to sing for a dance drama starring the local favourite and an international visitor.

Malik is yet to meet a ‘local favourite’ who hasn’t managed to insult him in some way or form. Ignorance was a popular method; it was always “sorry, who are you?” and “you sang in that? But I’ve never heard of you.” Of course they haven’t heard of him – they’d be too busy watching themselves in the mirror to appreciate the smallest crumb of talent that didn’t fall from their plate. The prospect of having to spend time with another ignorant upstart combined with having to stay in Chennai for at least a week seems cross that option off.

Except there is Kadar.

Malik and Kadar were joined together into the Carnatic music culture from a young age – being second generation Syrians living in India, their parents wanted them to learn what they could about the country they were growing up in. They both began singing, but naturally, Kadar’s lively eyes and ever active hands quickly latched on to the accompanying percussion, and eventually picked up the _[mridangam](http://avartanfestival.weebly.com/uploads/1/0/1/7/10178588/1362433707.jpg)_ instead.

And so they became enveloped in the music industry, performing local concerts and _kacheris_ from a young age – and accordingly, rose to fame at a young age as a musical duo. Meaning, any jobs Malik is offered, Kadar comes along too. A nice packaged deal.

Which would be nicer, Malik thinks, if 50% of this packaged deal doesn’t believe Chennai is a great idea.

“Just put aside your selective mind set for a second and think about it,” Kadar says.

“Alright, sure.” There is a pensive silence lasting a generous one and a half seconds. “Ok I’ve thought about it. We’re not going.”

Kadar lets out a frustrated groan and Malik can’t suppress the smug smile growing across his face.

“No, listen,” Kadar says firmly. “The whole reason for the concert is because there’s a dancer coming from Italy. She’s pure Italian, Malik. When are you ever going to get another chance to watch a _Bharatanatyam_ dancer from Europe?”

Malik straightens up and looks at Kadar. So that’s where the enthusiasm is coming from.

“You mean, when are you ever going to get another chance to see this dancer? You know for a fact that I couldn’t care less.”

For a while, there’s a lack of response on Kadar’s behalf. Malik smiles – he knows he’s right.

“Ok fine,” Kadar blurts. “But you know what else?”

“I don’t really care what else, Kadar, I still don’t want to go.”

“No, just shut up. Guess who it is that requested you.”

“I don’t know, the mother? The guru? Some old man? At this point it doesn’t really make a difference unless it’s-”

“The dancer himself,” Kadar smiles. He knows that Malik hates ignorance – not because he believes he deserves the fame but because with ignorance comes a lack of respect. And _there’s_ something Malik knows he deserves.

“Really?” Malik says after a silence long enough to be embarrassing.

“Yup. Malik, this is like a blue moon, you’ve got to do this guy the favour of singing for him. You know who the guru suggested he choose? Abbas.”

Malik made a sound not dissimilar to puking.

“Exactly. So not only would you save these undeserving human beings of dealing with him, but you’d be bringing the hopes and dreams of a young dancer to life,” Kadar makes sure to add as many flourishing gestures as possible, to help get his message across.

“Don’t over do it,” Malik deadpans. There was a sigh accompanied that off-putting thinking stare of his. “Fine,” Malik says, and before Kadar can jump around with joy, he shoves in “but we’re not staying there a moment longer than we need to. For any reason.” His look was pointed enough for Kadar to realise that by ‘we’, Malik meant ‘you’.

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a work for an Assassin's Creed International Drive on tumblr (http://fanworksaroundtheworld.tumblr.com), a drive dedicated to works set in countries other than the 'default' United States. I was more than happy to take these beautiful pairings to India, and I highly recommend that you all go and visit the blog to take a look at the collection of wonderful artwork and writing.


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